Faintly Familiar
by Pooca
Summary: HarryGinny flangst involving a married-with-child Charlie. It's themed, even if it is partially (completely) plotless. Sorry.


Faintly Familiar 

*

Pooca 

*

I disclaim it all, except for the silly lyrics I made up for my tuneless little song. In case you were wondering.

*

Harry tossed and turned in bed. He couldn't—or rather, wouldn't—sleep; although he was tired, he was only tired of being awake. He wasn't fighting sleep—his eyes were closed, after all. But there would be no rest for the restless mind.

As if in an attempt to distract him, his scar burned and his stomach jumped. _I wonder what will be in the paper tomorrow._

Harry groaned quietly, rubbed his eyes, and sat up.

Peering through sticky lashes he massaged his forehead. "Bloody scar…" he murmured, quietly cursing the pain. To his left Ron was still sound asleep, snoring slightly. Realizing the pointlessness of remaining in Ron's room, Harry began his well-worn path to the living room in the Burrow to sit by the fire and attempt to collect his thoughts. 

As he descended the stairs he heard a faint song.

"Your charms amaze me…you lips are sweeter than I ever knew…"

The singing grew louder and clearer as he drew towards the room. It was female. Harry wondered if Charlie's wife, Rebecca, was up with their baby, Lancelot. 

"We could climb onto your broom…we could fly away," the voice crooned. He was no music expert but he recognized the voice as decent. Not amazing, but sweet, in a quiet kind of way. "We could escape from all these things that hurt us every day…"

Harry stepped into the doorframe. He was surprised to find Ginny swaying in front of the fire with, indeed, Lancelot in her arms. She was the one softly singing.

"Oh, baby, come and hear my song, come along…" She drew out the last word, a bit off-key, as she continued turning around. Turning rather quickly, Harry realized. Before he had a chance to speak a greeting, Ginny saw his dark figure in the doorway and jumped back, yelping.

Lancelot was startled awake and began bawling. 

"Sh…it's okay… Harry! I didn't know you…Lance, baby…" Ginny jiggled the child. "Aw, did nasty Harry scare you too? His face does do that to people…" She giggled.

"Yeah, sorry," Harry said, smirking a little. "I heard you singing."

Ginny made a small whimpering sound, but did not blush. "Oh, thanks for telling me. I'm sure that was the lousiest singing you have ever heard in you—sh—life." She rolled her eyes as she hushed Lancelot, who was slowly calming down.

"Don't be ridiculous, it couldn't possibly be the worst. I've heard Ron sing in the shower."

Ginny laughed, causing Lancelot to shriek again. "Oh…" she cooed, "I'm sorry…" She shifted him onto her shoulder, rubbing his back.

"Was he causing a ruckus like this before I came down?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, he had been quite strung up for a while, he just began to settle."

"Why didn't I hear him?"

Ginny looked up. "There's silencing charms so you don't hear him outside Charlie and Becca's room." Ginny smiled slightly. "It's still in place from when I was young. Kind of funny, really."

"Then why are you up with him?" 

Ginny smirked. "Well, earlier I told Charlie that I wanted him to wake me up if Lancelot cried in the night. I wanted to try taking care of him in the wee hours, for practice…" Lancelot hiccupped. "Charlie laughed it off at the time, but I guess at three in the morning it's not so funny…"

Both teenagers watched Lancelot rub his eyes. He was finally becoming quiet.

"Looks like he's calm now…" Ginny spoke, nodding at Lancelot. "Harry…"

He looked up. "What?"

"Er…do you want to hold him?" she asked tentatively.

Ever since the baby had arrived Harry had been avoiding this. He was afraid he'd drop him, or something similarly stupid.

"I'venever held a baby before," he said quietly.

Ginny smiled. "No time like the present."

Harry paused. "Okay."

"Take the towel off my shoulder, and put it on your own," Ginny directed, nodding at the cloth Harry hasn't noticed until now.

"Okay." Harry transferred it carefully. "What's it for?"

Ginny raised an eyebrow at him. "In case he spits up, or something like that."

Harry made a face. 

"Spitting up is not that terrible, Harry," Ginny chastised, shifting around Lancelot. "It's a natural thing."

Harry shook his head. "I'm more worried about the 'something like that'."

Ginny rolled her eyes and gently passed the baby over to Harry.

His arms never felt so awkward. After fumbling a bit, Ginny offered "pretend you're holding a Quaffle," which he tried, at least to the highest extent he could.

After a few minutes all was settled.

"There," Ginny said. "Isn't he sweet?"

Harry saw Lancelot's eyes drooping as he made a few weak whimpers and squirmed into place. Harry couldn't suppress a slight smile at the tufted red hair and quickly disappearing brown eyes.

Harry looked up to see Ginny beaming down at him. There was something so… so… content, something _right, _about this scene, but Harry couldn't put his finger on it.

"Yeah, it's rather sweet," he acquiesced.

Ginny giggled, much quieter this time, and shifted behind him. As she stroked Lancelot's hair, Harry was acutely aware of how close she really was. "He's got the Weasley hair. Poor boy."

"No, it's nice hair. He has Charlie's eyes, too." Harry turned his neck and locked eyes with Ginny. Their faces were so close— "They're—they're different from yours. Darker brown." Harry swiftly turned his face back towards Lancelot, feeling heat rise into his cheeks and neck.

After a moment, Ginny squeaked "Yeah." Eventually Harry heard her sink down into the sofa and sigh.

"What brings you down here, anyway?" she asked.

His stomach squirmed; he had been so distracted the last few minutes. It had been wonderful, forgetting. "I…woke up," Harry lied, not wanting to discuss insomnia or nightmares—not when he felt so settled. This seemed like such a familiar scene.

"Why?"

Harry paused, then turned around to face her. "Scar."

Ginny made a murmuring sound. "Ah." She laid back into the cushions, closing her eyes contentedly in the squishy seating. 

It was quiet. Harry wondered if Ginny had fallen asleep right there, stranding him with a baby he didn't know what to do with.

"Ginny?" he asked sheepishly. She didn't answer. "Hey—" he nudged her foot with his own.

"Wha?" she drowsily responded.

"Er…my arms are getting tired." 

She opened one eye, than the other, blinking. "Hold on." She stood up slowly. "Okay, give him here."

He gently paced Lancelot in her outstretched arms, without incident, thankfully. "C'mon," she beckoned. Silently she led them down the hall and opened Charlie and Rebecca's door. Harry followed her into the room.

They placed Lancelot into the bassinet without him stirring. Harry gazed at the moonlight streaming onto the child's face as Ginny arranged the small blanket over him. She prodded Harry and led them out through the door.

Closing it behind her, Ginny smiled. "I'm so glad he didn't wake up again."

Harry nodded vigorously. "I don't know what I would have done. I'm beat."

"My plan was to run out of the room and make you deal with him." A mischievous twinkle appeared in her eyes.****

And suddenly Harry was struck with the most peculiar feeling. He felt as though his heart would surge up through his chest, and his body seemed to tingle. His fingers itched as his eyes traced the curls in her hair, and his arms felt hollow, as though they wished to have her between them. In a second, Harry came to the conclusion that he would very much like to hold her hand.

"Er…Ginny?"

"Hm?" She looked at him inquisitively, unaware of the sudden change. He wanted nothing more than to stay there with her, forever.

"I—I…I'm going to go to bed." He was probably imagining it…but maybe there had been a flicker of disappointment on her face.

"Good idea. I think I'm going to pass out right here." She yawned, as though on cue.

They walked wordlessly down the hallway until they reached the door that Harry had seen her large brown eyes peeking out of years ago. 

"Gin—" Harry began as she reached for the doorknob— "Er…thanks for teaching me how to, you know, handle a baby."

"How to _hold_ a baby," she corrected, mockingly condescending.

He smiled. "I guess, then… goodnight."

"See you in the morning." Then she entered the room, grinned at him, and closed the door.

Harry stood there, pondering. He wished he could have kept her out there, smiling at him, more than he had. Finally, after a few minutes, Harry realized he was lagging. He crept up towards Ron's room and noiselessly crawled into his bed.

His thoughts strayed from their usual fears and worries. He dwelled, rather, on Ginny. 

Tomorrow was a new day, after all.

*

_A/N: Thank you to betas BasilM, Faelaern, LhriAngel, and Allie._

_Because after Harry said "I—I…I'm going to go to bed," Ginny did _**not**_ respond, "Is that an invitation?"_

_Though it would have been very amusing if she had._****


End file.
